A Silver Rose
by afaithfulwriter890
Summary: The odds were always against them. They were pulled apart at practically every turn, and found each other by a mixture of luck and the dedication they have to each other. They have found each other once more, but can they make it last this time? Will they finally tell each other how they feel, or will they lose each other again - and this time, will it be forever? CARYL. POST S4.
1. Preface

_A Silver Rose - Preface_

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**Welcome to my new Caryl fanfiction! **

**Synopsis: The odds had always seemed to be against them. They were pulled apart at practically every turn, and found each other by a mixture of luck and the dedication they have to each other. They have found each other once more, but can they make it last this time? Will they finally tell each other how they feel, or will they lose each other again - and this time, will it be forever?**

**This takes place post Season 4 and will begin right after the Season 4 finale. From there, we will be moving forward with the plot. Please note that I HAVE NOT read the comics, and from what happens from here will be my interpretation on how I think they will continue. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, and I can't wait to see how you all respond to it. **

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**Preface**

Daryl watched her with wary eyes as he placed the cup on the small table in front of her bed. The silver-haired woman looked up at him with teary eyes, and then at the white flower he'd given her. "A flower?" she choked out. Her eyes were raw and red from crying. Just the look of her tormented face made his chest feel tight with an emotion he didn't recognize.

"S'a Cherokee Rose," the hunter told her. His voice was quiet, and nowhere near as loud or as scathing as it was whenever he spoke to the others in the group. He didn't want to scare her - anything but that. In the first time in his life, Daryl Dixon wanted to offer someone comfort. "Ya know tha story?"

She shook her head, wiping a stray tear off her face.

The taciturn hunter leaned against the wall of the camper. He folded his arms across his chest, and raised his left hand to his mouth. He gnawed on his thumb, thinking of a good way to start the story without sounding like some uneducated redneck. The woman before him was from a much higher class than he was; she was smarter, and had learned more than he probably ever could.

"The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land on the Trail a' Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much 'cause they were losin' their little ones along tha way from exposure and disease, and starvation. A lot of 'em jus' disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer, an' asked for a sign ta uplift the mother's spirits, give 'em strength and hope. The next day this rose started ta grow where the mothers' tears fell. I'm not fool enough ta think there's any flowers bloomin' fer my brother. But I believe this one bloomed fer yer little girl."

She stared at him, more tears already brimming in her eyes. She kept looking from him, back to the flower, and then back to him. It was as if she was overwhelmed that he had even given her the flower. Not wanting to hover and make her feel awkward, or compelled to say something, Daryl turned to leave, but she called him back.

"Daryl?"

He paused at the door of the camper and looked back at her.

"Thank you."

He smiled slightly, and left the camper.

Carol Peletier sat on the bed, wiping at her raw, red eyes. She examined the beautiful white flower she'd been given, and felt her heart swell with happiness. Even though Sophia was gone, Carol somehow was able to feel hope, and now, even happiness around Daryl Dixon. She picked up the cup and held it close to her, admiring the flower. She gave it a small sniff, and couldn't help but smile.

It was in that moment, that Carol fell in love with a loud, erratic, honorable redneck.


	2. Chapter 1

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 1_

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**This chapter is really short, mainly because the story is being set up. This chapter is introducing Daryl's situation, and the next chapter will be introducing Carol's. **

**From there, chapters will be longer and will contain more action and such. :)**

**Thank you for all the incredible support this story has gotten so far! We already have 17 followers and it has only been one day! :D Thank you guys, I really do appreciate it.**

**I don't own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter One**

Daryl gnawed at a piece of loose skin on his thumb. He had lost track of how many days he and the others had been locked inside the train car. If he had to guess, it was more than three but less than ten. Most of the group had been trying to keep track of the days; every day at sunrise, they would debate on how long they had been locked up. Of course, Rick's smaller group that arrived after the others had a smaller number than others. Glenn thought that they had been held captive for at least fifteen days. Maggie said it was more, Abraham said it was less. No one could come to a solid agreement on how long that had been kept as prisoners inside of Terminus.

The hunter grudgingly remembered all the sings he, Rick, Carl, and Michonne had found on the way in: _Those who arrive survive. _Daryl shook his head just thinking about it. How could they have been so stupid to believe that? Rick had sensed that something was awry, but still insisted on going on. There only saving grace might be the bag of guns Rick buried just outside the camp's walls. If they were able to escape and find those guns, they would be alright. _I ain't leavin' without my bow, _Daryl vowed. Without a crossbow, Daryl Dixon certainly wasn't helpless, but he wasn't as confident with a gun. He was better with a knife, but he was lethal with his bow. He felt exactly how Michonne had said she felt without her katana: naked and defenseless.

He continued to bite at his thumb, getting lost in his plans to escape. He hated being confined. He hated feeling helpless; useless. For the first few days, Rick had paced, the wheels in his brain turning as he struggled to come up with a plan. Then, rather suddenly, he seemed to give up and had resorted to sitting next to Carl, staring at the opposite wall. With Rick in no condition to lead the group, Daryl had to step up once again and take charge. _I have to get these people outta here. I failed 'em once. I ain't doin' it again._ In Daryl's mind, he had let so many people down. Dale. T-Dog. Oscar. Axel. Merle. Andrea. Hershel. Lil' Asskicker. Beth… Carol.

The thought of his best friend alone in this world made his chest ache. He should have stood up for her when Rick told him that he'd banished her. At the time, he'd been so stunned by the revelation that he could hardly process it. He didn't even have time to dwell on the fact that his best friend was _gone _since the Governor attacked shortly after he heard the news. After the prison fell, he had to focus on keeping himself and Beth alive. He had to keep his head focused on the task, and he had enough on his plate with the younger Greene sister. After she was taken, Daryl ran into Joe, and joined his group. Daryl considered that one of the stupidest moves of his life. He knew that they were shitty guys, and yet he stuck around. The only thing that made it worth it was finding Rick, Carl, and Michonne. And even then, they had nearly been killed that day. Yet, even after all of that, he couldn't help but think about Carol. Where was she? Was she okay? Was she safe? Was she even alive? Had walkers gotten her? Or was she somewhere in Terminus? Or was it too late for her?

Daryl shook his head; he had to think about a way to get out, not worry about Carol. Once they were out of this place, they could look for her, but right now there was nothing they could do.

"Daryl," Michonne's voice broke his train of thought.

He looked up to see the samurai a few feet away, and still coming closer. Abraham and Glenn hung back, but were clearly listening to the conversation. "We have a plan to get outta here," she said. "Are you in?"

Daryl didn't even hesitate. "Hell yeah."

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A/N: Please leave a review and tell me what you think of it this far! Again, I promise that after Chapter 2, the chapters will be much, much longer, so don't worry. :)


	3. Chapter 2

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 2_

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**Hey y'all. :D **

**I'm in a good mood today.**

**I'm going to try to update Kiss Away My Sins, and maybe Everything to Me, but no promises. Maybe I'll even get Chapter 3 of this. Not sure.**

**We'll see! :D**

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Two**

Tyreese led the way as they followed the railroad tracks. Carol trudged along behind, carrying a squirming Judith in her arms. The baby whimpered and wiggled in her arms, clearly not happy about being on the move once more. Carol knew that Judith was probably exhausted, hungry, and might even need a diaper change, but she dared not stop Tyreese. They'd been traveling for a few hours without stopping, and the man that she had come to know over the past few weeks was growing more and more distant.

Carol knew that it was her fault; he knew the truth about her now. He knew what she had done to Karen and David, and he would never look at her the same way now. Even though Tyreese said he forgave her, she knew damn well that he wouldn't forget.

She had honestly thought that she was doing the right thing; the sickness was spreading throughout the prison, and soon more people would fall ill. For all she knew, Lizzie, Mika, Judith, or Carl could have been next. Sophia had died because Carol had been too afraid to step up and take initiative, and the last thing she wanted was for any more children to die because she was too weak to make a hard decision. So she made one, and she almost lost everything because of it.

Looking back on it, she knew that it wasn't fair. Rick had exiled her because she had tried to protect _his _children. She cared for them more than Lori had; she looked after them when Rick was "workin' thangs out", as he'd said. She was part of the reason that Judith was even still alive. And yet, Rick considered her a _threat _to his family. She wasn't some psychotic killer; she wasn't the Governor. She was a mother that had lost her child and wanted to keep more children from dying. Rick had killed more people than she had; he was more of a danger to the group than she was, but he saw no problem with what he had done. She tried to tell herself that Rick had just been trying to look after her; keep her safe from the fury they both feared Tyreese would unleash. But the more Carol thought about it, the more she fumed. He didn't even let her say goodbye to Lizzie and Mika, or Judith, or Daryl.

_Daryl. _

Good Lord, how she missed that man.

Her heart ached whenever she thought of that crazy, honorable redneck. He had done more for her than her own family had. Daryl looked for Sophia and refused to give up hope when the group had begun to have doubts. Daryl stood by her side, and even offered her comfort in his own Dixon way. And when Sophia had stumbled out of that barn as one of the walkers, he held her in his arms while she sobbed. He looked after her and made sure she was safe when no one else gave a damn. He made sure that she ate, and was always warm during the colder, winter months. He always looked after her.

She wondered where her beloved hunter was now. Had Rick told him the truth? Did he know what she did? Carol didn't know what she would do, or how she would react if Daryl thought that she was a monster too. Daryl's opinion mattered to her more than anyone's, and if he hated her… She didn't want to think about it. She had lost so much already, she couldn't lose Daryl too.

"Hey Carol! Check this out!" Tyreese called from up ahead.

Judith let out a small mewling sound as she heard his voice, and if Carol didn't know better, she'd say that the babe actually sounded annoyed. Carol smiled down at the baby before looking up to see exactly what Tyreese was walking about. An old, abandoned car was sitting on the side of the tracks. There was a large sign on the side of it that read:

**TERMINUS**

**TWO MILES NORTH**

**THOSE WHO ARRIVE, SURVIVE**

Carol exchanged a dubious look with her companion, her lips pursed. "You think this is for real?" Tyreese inquired, his face betraying his hope.

She was uncertain. Daryl had always told her to question everything; people were cruel enough already without adding an apocalypse to the mix. Plus, Carol knew from experience that when things seemed too good to be true, they usually were. Her mind drifted back to Woodbury, and how the Governor had made it out to be some paradise, but it was anything but. "I don't trust it," she admitted, shifting Judith onto her hip.

Irritation flashed in Tyreese's eyes. "We can't just… not check it out, Carol. Maybe the others went there! Maybe Sasha is there, or Daryl," he suggested, knowing she had a weak spot for the hunter.

_Daryl would never trap himself like that unless he was with others that wanted to go… If that was the case, he wouldn't let them go alone, _Carol thought, but kept that comment to herself. "You think that it's a good idea?" she asked him, still unconvinced.

Tyreese nodded. "It's our only lead." Without even waiting for a response, he took off to the north, his pace brisker than before.

Carol sighed and gave a defeated nod. It looked like they were going to Terminus whether she liked it or not.

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A/N: Review? :D


	4. Chapter 3

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 3_

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**Here's chapter 3. :) I am really enjoying writing this story, and hopefully will get Chapter 4 out soon. It might be a few chapters yet before we get an actual Caryl scene where they meet in current time and have a conversation, but it will come. Patience is a virtue my friends.**

**I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Three**

"They usually feed us in pairs," Michonne said, looking between Daryl and Abraham. The two men stood next to each other rather awkwardly. The hunter wasn't sure how he felt about this new guy, but he wasn't getting good vibes. There were certain things about him that made Daryl feel slightly more comfortable - Abraham seemed to be very intelligent and innovative, but also determined and strong-willed. But Daryl knew all too well that the latter could be both a blessing, and a curse. There was also the way that Abraham would look at Eugene, and practically throw himself in front of the man the moment the door opened, like Abraham's only purpose in life was to guarantee the man's safety.

"What I was thinking," the samurai continued, "was that we could ambush them. If there are only two, we could take them by surprise - disarm them, and knock them unconscious before they can sound the alarm. Then, if we're careful, we can sneak through the compound and get to the part where Rick, Daryl, Carl, and I came in. We have a bag of weapons buried there, and if we can get them, we'll be golden."

"We need to get our old weapons back," Daryl said, his voice bordering on a growl. Come hell or high water, he was not leaving without his crossbow. "My crossbow, and yer sword."

Michonne nodded. "That's somethin' else we gotta think about… My plan was that Daryl—you and I would take someone else—Glenn, maybe?—and look for our old weapons. Meanwhile, Abraham and Rick could get the others out."

"And if shit hits tha fan?" Daryl queried.

The woman gave him a rueful smirk. "Wouldn't be the first time we got ourselves in a little bit of a predicament, would it, Dixon?"

Daryl gave her a half-hearted grin. His mind wandered back to the silver-haired woman that had haunted not only his dreams but his waking thoughts as well. He couldn't help but think about all the times when things went wrong and Daryl felt so terrified for her life that he was certain that five years had been taken off his life. And yet, when she had really needed him, he wasn't there. Why didn't she tell me? he thought, his chest aching. Was she scared a' me? Did she think she couldn't trust me?

"Daryl?" Michonne's voice snapped him out of his self-pity.

"Huh?"

"Ya think we can do it?"

"Oh, I know we can do it," he answered. "It ain't gonna be simple, but we'll be able to do it… These fucker's won't be expectin' us ta rebel."

Abraham let out a grunt of disapproval. "Or maybe that's exactly what they're waitin' for."

"We won't know until we find out," Daryl offered, shrugging.

"We just need to tell Rick now," Michonne murmured, shooting a wary glanced toward the sheriff. Rick sat in the corner of the boxcar next to Carl, gazing at the floor with a defeated expression. Daryl glanced back at Michonne, only to find that she was still gazing intently at the cop. The hunter couldn't help but notice how close the two of them had become lately. He guessed that it was probably nothing, but he couldn't be too sure.

"I'll talk to him," Daryl offered, but Michonne shook her head.

"I got it… I've been meaning to have a word with him anyway."

As she went to go inform Rick about the plans, Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob joined him and Abraham in the center of the boxcar. "What's the plan?" Glenn asked, looking just as eager as he had back at the quarry.

Abraham explained the plan while Daryl leaned against the wall of the boxcar, his mind again drifting off to Carol. He wouldn't admit that she was dead; she couldn't be. She was so much stronger now than she was back at the quarry. She knew how to protect herself, Daryl had made sure of that. He smiled ever-so-slightly at the memory.

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_They stood outside the prison. Daryl had set up a few targets so Carol could practice throwing knives, but they had already finished that part of the lesson. Now, they were focusing on hand-to-hand combat. Carol stood five feet away from him, holding her knife loosely in her hand, her weight shifted to one side._

_ "Daryl I am not going to attack you," she stated simply, giving him a look of severe disapproval._

_ The hunter rolled his eyes. "Ya ain't attackin' me," he protested. "We're trainin', an' I jus' 'appen ta be tha trainin' dummy s'all." _

_ "I could hurt you," she murmured in a small voice, refusing to meet his eyes._

_ Daryl sighed. "Ya ain't gonna 'urt me, woman, now c'mon. Pretend I'm a walker."_

_ Carol gave him a tortured look. "That's even worse."_

_ He swore and threw his hands up in the air. "How're ya gonna learn?!" he shouted, his patience gone. "How're ya gonna protect yerself? Huh?! I'm not always gonna be around, Carol! What if somethin' 'appens, an' I ain't 'ere?! It almost happened once! You remember what 'appened ta you and T-Dog? I thought ya were dead! I ain't gonna go through that again!"_

_ Her eyes were wide as she stared at him in silence. After a few uneasy moments, Carol rushed forward and, without warning, threw her arms around him. Daryl instinctively stiffened, but slowly relaxed at her touch. She gave his body a small squeeze, resting her head on his chest. They stayed like that for a long time. Daryl knew that Merle was probably sitting in the watchtower, observing the scene with a devious smirk on his face, but he didn't care. Slowly, he got up the courage to encircle his arms around her tiny body as well._

_ Their embrace didn't last long enough. Carol was the first to pull away, and gave him a shy smile. "You won't have to worry about that, Daryl. I'm not going anywhere."_

_ He shook his head; he felt slightly lightheaded from being so close to her. "Ya don't know that."_

_ She smirked. "Nine lives, remember?"_

_ "Yer gonna run outta lives one a' these days, woman."  
_

_Carol took out her knife again, her face falling slightly as she realized that she had to practice one way or another. She looked up at the hunter and he watched as she forced a smile. "Are you gonna teach me, or what?"  
_

_Daryl grinned and nodded. "I'll be the walker, and you try to stab me in the head—don't actually do it though."_

_ He could suppress the feeling of joy he received when she laughed. "Of course not, silly," she giggled. _

_ They spent the rest of the day training. Carol showed fantastic improvement, and Daryl couldn't have been prouder. That night at dinner, after Carol had finished serving the others, they sat next to each other in the cafeteria, slyly making references to their day. Rick, Merle, and Carl who sat at the table with them, exchanged confused glances whenever Carol would giggle at one of their private jokes, or when Daryl would furtively smirk. _

_ Daryl couldn't recall a time in his life when he had ever been so happy._

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There was no doubt in his mind that Carol was still alive; he had trained her too well. He may not have gotten the opportunity to teach her how to hunt, or trap, but she knew how to take down walkers with knives, and other obscure weapons, and that was enough.

She was out there somewhere.

He just had to find her.

_Jus' hang on, woman,_ he thought pleadingly. _I'm comin' for ya. Jus' hang on._

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A/N: Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! They always encourage me to write more. :D


	5. Chapter 4

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 4_

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**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. :/**

**I don't own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Four**

"Welcome to Terminus!"

Carol eyed the young man called Gareth uneasily. There was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the glazed look in his eyes, or the way he watched them, as if he were sizing them up.

"We're really grateful that y'all are willin' ta let us in," Tyreese said taking a step closer.

Gareth held up his hand calmly, not even flinching as the larger man advanced. "Yes, but I'm going to have to ask you to step back. We'll need to see your weapons."

"For what?" Carol asked, shifting Judith's position on her hip. The baby cooed in response and grabbed a tuft of her carrier's silver hair.

He turned his brown eyes on her, making her internally squirm. He seemed too calm and laid back. "We just want to know what you have—we aren't taking them from you. Once you show them to us, we'll let you take them back."

Tyreese was already slipping his backpack off his shoulders and unloading everything he possessed. Carol watched him with wide, stunned eyes. How could he be so trusting? How can he just show them everything without so much of a second thought? Had the incident with the Governor taught him nothing? Even back at the quarry when Carol was a very different woman, she knew better than to show the potential enemy her supplies.

Gareth lazily observed Tyreese, his eyes seeming to take in everything he could about the large man. Carol could practically see the wheels turning in his head. She knew that Tyreese looked too eager, too trusting, and she was damn sure that Gareth was already planning a way to use that to his advantage.

When Tyreese finished showing his items to Gareth, the young man turned to Carol expectantly. "Well?"

Carol gave him a hard stare. "Why should I show you everything I have? How do I know you won't use it against me?"

Gareth didn't laugh as she had expected, instead he watched her with intrigued eyes. "You won't show me then?"

She stood up a little straighter and held Judith close. "No."

A smirk appeared on the young man's face. "Smart woman."

Without another word to either of them, Gareth turned his back on them. "Gentlemen," he addressed the men around them that Carol guessed were guards. "Why don't you show our new residents to their new lodgings?"

As Gareth walked away, Tyreese put his backpack on again, and looked at Carol. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"A test," she replied, watching Gareth leave. _And I think I passed._ She wondered if Daryl would have done the same. Would he have shown that man his weapons? Would he have passed? In the back of her mind, she even dared to wonder if he would have been proud of her for standing her ground.

As thoughts of Daryl entered her mind, a familiar ache returned to her heart. _Oh, Daryl…_ If Daryl knew the truth about what she did, he wouldn't feel proud. He would look at her with resentful eyes and shake his head. She could hear his voice in her head: _"Ya ain't tha woman I thought I knew, Carol!"_ In her mind, it was filled with venom, as it had been back at Hershel's farm, the night she went to him after they found Sophia in the barn. That was how he would speak to her, how he would think of her.

_I'm sorry,_ she thought even though he couldn't hear her. She wished she could. She wished that he knew that she felt awful about killing Karen and David. She wished that he knew that she hated herself every day for it. She wished that those things would make a difference.

"Come this way," one of the guards instructed, jerking his gun ahead of him. Carol took a deep breath. Her eyes had grown moist from the thoughts of the redneck she loved more than life itself, and now she struggled to blink the tears away. Tyreese either didn't see, or chose not to see the tears and took the lead. Carol forced herself to follow him, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

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The guards brought them to a small building on the other side of the compound. If Carol had to guess what it had once been, she would have said an office building of some sort. But whatever it had been, it was a bunkhouse now. Once inside, the guards led them up a narrow staircase to the top floor. "You three got the penthouse," he joked, opening the door to their new abode.

Carol went in first since Tyreese had decided to be a gentleman and hold the door downstairs for the rest of the guards. The room was small and it made Carol feel uneasy. With every passing second, she felt more and more claustrophobic. Back when she had first married Ed, his method of choice had been to lock her in a closet, or some tight, enclosed place. He would leave her in there for hours for her to cry, and beg to be let out. She shuddered at the mere thought of it. The room was not as bad as the closets, but it was small enough to bring back the memories. The main reason it seemed so tight was because of a large bunk bed on the eastern wall that jutted out at least four or five feet. On the opposite side of the room was a small armoire and a little nightstand with a single candle.

"What do you think, Lil' Asskicker?" Carol asked, kissing Judith's cheek.

Judith cooed again and rested her head on Carol's shoulder.

"Lil' Asskicker?" one of the guards asked with a smirk on his face.

Carol smiled sheepishly. "A friend of mine picked it out."

The guard gave Judith an affectionate look. "She's real cute. I haven't seen a baby since… well since before all this started. You must be very proud… Where's her father? Or is the big guy—"

"Oh she isn't mine," Carol quickly corrected. "She's… my niece for all intents and purposes. My best friend… died giving birth to her, and I've been taking care of her since then."

"Oh," the guard answered, seeming downcast. "I'm sorry then… What's her name? I doubt it's really Lil' Asskicker."

Carol smiled weakly. "Her name is Judith."

The guard touched Judith's arm gently. "Hey Judith. I'm Tommy."

Judith just blinked at him before shifting closer to Carol. Tommy chuckled before taking a step back.

"You two seem to be getting friendly," Tyreese observed stepping into the small room. Just his presence in the room made it feel more confined. Carol took a step back, cherishing the new space between her and the men.

"It's the baby," Carol jested, trying to keep her voice light. "She brings everyone closer together."

Judith made another small happy sound as if she understood what Carol was saying.

Tyreese smiled and then nodded to the guard. "I think we'll be alright from here on out."

The guard straightened up with purpose at Tyreese's words. "Since you just arrived here, you are required to be under surveillance until we're sure that we can trust you. There will be at least one guard outside your door at all at times. Each of you, except for the baby, is required to have an armed guard escort you to wherever you need to go, whether it may be to the outhouse, to speak to Gareth or Mary, or to do your daily chores. We also have a strict curfew here. You are not allowed out of this building after sunset unless you have permission from Gareth or Mary. If you are found outside after curfew, or if you are found somewhere without a chaperone, you will be severely reprimanded, is that clear?"

Carol narrowed her eyes. She knew that it was normal for newcomers to be under such strict rules, but it sounded as if there was something that they didn't want her and Tyreese to see.

"I said, is that clear?" the guard asked again, looking from Tyreese to Carol.

Carol pursed her lips together. "Crystal."

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A/N: Review?


	6. Chapter 5

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 5_

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**Sorry for the long wait, but I've been on vacation! I'm back now, and I thought I'd return with a new chapter for you guys. :)**

**I don't own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Five**

Daryl was pacing back and forth inside the boxcar, grumbling under his breath. It was mostly nonsense about Rick's state of mind. Even after Michonne talked to him, Rick continued to be lost in his own little world. No one—not even Carl—could seem to bring him back.

"Ya know," Michonne began, bringing a cease to Daryl's pacing. Everyone in the train car seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. The hunter's jitteriness had been putting them all on edge. "Daryl," she said, walking toward him. She lowered her voice then, "Maybe you should talk to Rick."

Daryl made a disgusted face. "I ain't got nothin' ta say ta him," he stated simply. "If he can't be here even for his boy, then I don't want nothin' ta do with him."

Michonne sighed. "Daryl, I wasn't at the prison then, but I remember people talkin' about how Rick got like this before—after his wife died. He was… distant and… Glenn even said violent. I can't reach him, and neither can Carl. Rick, you're like a brother to 'im. You can give him the tough love Carl an' I can't. I know that you can get through to 'im if you try."

The hunter let out a disgruntled sigh, and folded his arms across his chest. He appraised the samurai for a while. Daryl knew that Michonne cared for Rick—probably more than she was willing to let on—and he knew that she was worried about him. Hell, Daryl was too, but he wasn't going to baby him either. Rick needed to pull himself together and learn how to be a man when shit hit the fan.

"Fine," Daryl grumbled, turning away from her. He started toward Rick, who sat in the corner, staring at the opposite wall.

"Daryl?" Michonne called after him.

He didn't look back, but paused.

"Don't go easy on him."

The redneck chuckled. "I don't plan to."

Rick didn't move when Daryl approached, even though the hunter knew that his friend could both see and hear him. _God, Rick,_ he thought sadly as he neared. _What's goin' on wit' ya?_ "Rick?" He waved a hand in front of the cop's face.

After a few seconds, Rick's eyes found his. "Daryl… what did ya need?"

Daryl sighed. Seeing his best friend like this upset him, but then his attitude and demeanor hardened. Rick needed to get over whatever this was, and soon. If they didn't have him on board, they wouldn't be able to go through with their plan. _When we came ta this hell hole, Rick sensed it. He knew somethin' was wrong. He was so determined ta get out… What happened?_

"I need ya ta get yer shit together," Daryl told him. "I need ya with us when we try to break outta here."

Rick shook his head. "Ya'll should jus' stop tryin'… it'll be easier on ya that way."

"Easier?"

"We're gonna die, Daryl."

The hunter snorted. "No shit, Sherlock. Everyone dies. Doesn't mean ya jus' give up. We still got a chance, Rick. We can still make it."

"No!" Rick shouted, making everyone in the train car jump. He got to his feet and glared at Daryl. "Ya don't get it! We are gonna die here. There is no way out!"

"Why?" Daryl prompted, his own temper rising. "'Cause ya said so? This ain't yer dictatorship no more, Rick. Ya made tha Council, and guess what! Council says we try ta escape. So ya come along, or yer ass gets left behind and eaten by those fuckers! Frankly, I don't care anymore! Ya can die a slow, painful death gettin' chopped ta bits, or ya can die from a bullet wound fightin' fer yer freedom! The Rick I know wouldn't even think twice about how he'd prefer ta go out. It's yer choice. And if you choose ta stay here, than tha hell wit' ya! I don't give a shit."

As Daryl turned to walk away, something slammed into the back of him. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor. Rick was pinning him to the floor, beating the shit out of him. Daryl growled in pain as Rick's fists collided with the side of his face that was still tender from the fight with Joe's gang. Most of the older group—Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Carl—were crowded around trying to pull Rick off of Daryl. After a few moments of shock, and struggling to comprehend what exactly was going on, Daryl began to fight back. He caught one of Rick's fists in his hand, his other found Rick's throat. Careful not to choke him, Daryl began to pry his friend away from him. Rick's free hand continued to pound into the side of Daryl's face.

Rick's knuckles clipped his nose, but it was just hard enough to send a waterfall of blood gushing from his nostrils. Daryl spat out some of the crimson liquid that had found its way into his mouth. Rick hardly flinched as some of the blood splattered onto his cheek.

Suddenly, Rick went flying off the hunter. Daryl sat up, breathing heavily. A few feet away, he saw Carl sitting on Rick's chest pinning him to the ground. The kid was still small, but almost all muscle. He had no problem holding a dazed and confused Rick in place. "STOP IT!" Carl screamed in his father's face. "JUST STOP IT, YOU HEAR ME?! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! YOU CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN! THIS CAN'T BE HOW IT WAS WHEN MOM DIED! BE A MAN ALREADY! IT'S SAD WHEN YOUR OWN SON CAN KEEP HIMSELF TOGETHER BETTER THAN YOU CAN! AND I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T GET THAT TRAIT FROM YOU! WHO KNOWS, MAYBE MOM WAS WITH SHANE BEFORE YOU EVEN GOT SHOT! MAYBE I'M HIS SON! SHANE WAS A KILLER, BUT AT LEAST HE LOOKED AFTER HIS PEOPLE! AT LEAST HE DIDN'T ALMOST KILL US MULTIPLE TIMES!"

Daryl was stunned. Carl's chest was heaving as his panted. The kid looked broken as he stared down at his father. Tears were pooling in his eyes, but the boy seemed determined to not let them fall. Carl sighed and rolled off his father. He sat on the floor of the train car and put his head in his hands. Rick sat up, his eyes wide with pure shock. He stared at Carl for a long time before looking to Daryl. Recognition and realization flashed in his eyes. It was as if he finally realized what he had done—what he'd been doing.

Michonne held out a hand to Daryl, offering to help him up. He waved it away and pushed himself to his feet. His held felt foggy, and his nose hurt like hell, but he felt like it was worth it. Maybe Rick finally understood. Maybe he finally realized that they needed him—that Carl needed him.

"Alright, people," Glenn said, looking at the newer members of the group. "Nothin' ta see here. Go back to… whatever it was you were doing." He took Maggie's hand and the couple went back to where they had been sitting.

The samurai turned to Daryl. They exchanged a sad, mournful look before looking back at the father and son. Rick had shifted closer to Carl and was whispering to him, seeming to be trying to comfort him. Carl jerked away from him and glared. "Jus' leave me alone."

As the boy got to his feet, Michonne shook her head. "Poor kid… I wish there was more I could do… for both of them. But no matter how hard I try, I will never be Lori."

Daryl gave her a surprised glance. He was a little shocked that she had decided to open up to him like that. He wasn't quite sure how to react. The one thing he and Michonne had in common was that neither of them liked to talk about themselves. They were solitary, and liked to keep to themselves. They had their own little secrets that they never told anyone. The only one Daryl had ever told anything personal to was Carol.

_Carol._ His chest and stomach clenched at the thought of her. _No, I can't think 'bout 'er right now… Once we get outta here, I can focus on findin' her, but right now… I gotta think about gettin' outta here._

Was Rick Michonne's Carol? Had she told him all of her secrets, and things she wouldn't trust with anyone else?

"I wanna help him… Lord knows tha man needs it… but… I can't. I can't love him the way Lori did. I can't be Carl's mother. I can love Rick with all my heart if that's what he wants—I can give him everything I have to give, but I can't be his wife. I can give Carl all my love too, but I'm not his mother." Michonne sounded sad, almost regretful.

"Ya do yer best," Daryl tried to encourage. "If that ain't enough for 'im, then fuck 'im."

Michonne smirked. "I'd love to," she joked.

When Daryl's jaw dropped, she giggled. "I should go… see if he's okay," she said, all of her humor fading away.

Daryl nodded, and watched as she went over to his friend. He turned his back on them a Michonne crouched to talk to him. _They deserve what little privacy they can get,_ he thought.

As he approached the others, who were mostly clustered on one side of the boxcar, Abraham and Glenn came toward him. "So… is he in?" the red-haired soldier asked. "Because I'm going to need ta know, and soon."

"Give 'im a while," Daryl said sharply. He didn't need this new guy coming in and starting to take charge of things. These were his people, and when Rick wasn't up for the job, it had always fallen to Daryl to lead them. This Abraham wasn't going to take that from him.

Abraham stiffened but gave him a curt nod. "Fine, but we're leaving tomorrow. No exceptions."

Daryl felt his Dixon temper boiling again. How dare this fucker come in and try to take control of these people? Of him?! He looked around at his people—Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, Bob, Rick, Michonne, Carl—Daryl would be damned if he let anything happen to them. _I already let Carol down… I… I can't do that to them too._ He eyed Abraham uneasily. _My people don't need ya, especially when yer only after one thing—gettin' that geek ta Washington. Ya'll leave 'em high and dry first chance ya get. Well, I ain't gonna let ya. 'Cause this is my group—these are my people. If Rick don't wanna be leader no more, than I'll lead 'em._

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A/N: Review? :)


	7. Chapter 6

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 6_

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**It will probably be a few more chapters before we get an actual Caryl scene, but that's what flashbacks are for. :D**

**I don't own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Six**

"You'll both have to participate in chores like everyone else," Gareth was saying as he led Carol and Tyreese to the mess hall. "Everyone here at Terminus must find some way to contribute to the community, or else they cannot stay. Of course, we hate to turn people—fellow survivors who need our help—away, but we simply cannot afford to have them here. But, I suppose that you would understand that. It looks like neither of you are strangers to hard work," he commented.

Tyreese shook his head quickly. "No, sir. I can do any kind a' physical work you need doin'. Carol, she can too, but she's real good with kids. In our old group, she'd always look after 'em and teach 'em things."

Gareth turned to her, clearly expecting her to confirm Tyreese's words. Carol shrugged. "I taught them what they needed to learn to survive." _But even then it wasn't enough._ The thought of the prison and her classes with the children made her heart ache. Lizzie and Mika were dead… what about the others? Had they made it out? If they had been with adults, perhaps they'd survived, but if not… Carol had a feeling that they had no chance.

She had tried so hard to make them ready to face the world outside the fences. All she wanted was to make sure that none of those precious, innocent kids ended up like Sophia. She didn't want to see another child die, and since the prison fell, she'd seen two. _I should have tried harder… I should have talked to Rick and let them have formal classes… I should have talked to Daryl… He would have listened…_

* * *

_"Yer real good wit' 'em."_

_ Daryl's voice made her jump. Carol spun around to come face-to-face with the usually silent redneck. "Dammit, Daryl," she commented with a sigh of relief. "You scared me."_

_ The hunter looked down apologetically. "Sorry… I jus' saw ya over 'ere and thought I'd come by."_

_ Carol gave him a small smile. Daryl was so busy handling things in the prison and picking up Rick's slack. It was a marvel that he even had time to spend with her anymore. Perhaps he deliberately made time. The thought made her warm inside. She turned back to the children, who were playing just a few feet away. Lizzie and Mika were sitting in the grass, playing with some old Barbie dolls Michonne had scrounged up on one of her runs. Luke and Molly played tag with some of the other kids away from the two sisters. Just a few seconds before Daryl had come up, Carol had helped Mika put one of the miniature shirts on the Barbie doll. _

_ "I wish they could always be outside," she murmured. Even though she knew that Daryl had the potential power to make this wish come true, she knew it was a lost cause. She knew that the kids had to be protected, and stay inside the prison where it was safe. It was rare that they got to go outside and actually play. _

_ Daryl shuffled his feet nervously. "Yeah… I know ya do…" He kept his eyes on the kids. Carol risked a glance at him, and couldn't help but smile slightly. The hunter's mouth was open, and his eyes squinted against the sun. It was the traditional Dixon "think" face as she called it. Beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face, making his tan skin glisten in the midday sun. "I wish they could always be this happy… If they were, I might be able ta stand bein' around 'em."_

_ Carol chuckled. "Kids are not that bad, Daryl."_

_ He snorted. "Always cryin' about somethin'," he muttered._

_ "I think you have them confused with babies and or toddlers," Carol said._

_ Daryl shook his head. "Please, Lil' Asskicker don't cry."_

_ Carol laughed. "Oh yes she does. You just don't hear it 'cause you're always outside working. Come to think of it, she's probably cryin' for Uncle Daryl."_

_ The hunter smiled slightly, but shook his head. "I guess I should visit tha kid more, eh?"_

_ "You should," she agreed. "Lil' Asskicker misses you."_

_ "Ma'am, can you help me?" _

_ Carol looked down to see Lizzie standing there. "What is Lizzie?" she asked, kneeling down so she was eye-level with the young girl. There was something about Lizzie and Mika that reminded her so much of Sophia. It made her sad just to think about it._

_ "Carol, I'll see ya—"_

_ "Hello, Mr. Dixon," Lizzie said, turning to him. She was completely ignoring Carol now, as if she'd forgotten what she wanted._

_ "Uh… hi," Daryl replied awkwardly._

_ Carol was half-tempted to stop Lizzie from bothering him, but then decided against it. _At least it'll be fun to watch,_ she reasoned._

_ "Do you always wear sleeveless shirts?" Lizzie asked, blinking at him inquisitively._

_ "Um…" the hunter looked at Carol for help, but the woman only shrugged. "Yeah… I get too hot otherwise… Why?"_

_ "Oh, well some of the grownup women like it a lot."_

_ Daryl was suddenly silent and ten shades of red. Carol had never tried so hard to keep herself from laughing._

_ "Do you always keep your hair really long?" Lizzie continued to inquire._

_ "Um… not really…"_

_ "Well it's long now. If you don't like it long, why don't you cut it?"_

_ "I used ta have it real short before… all this started. Then… well there ain't no more barbers around, kid. Can't exactly get it cut," Daryl told her._

_ "Well what about Beth? She cuts my hair when it gets too long," Lizzie said. "I'm sure she'll cut yours too if you ask."_

_ "I ain't gonna go ask no farm girl ta cut my—" Daryl stopped, looking at Carol. She could hear the irritation in his voice, and suddenly felt a little bad._

_ "Lizzie, I think you've bothered Mr. Dixon enough… What was it you wanted?" Carol asked, gently pulling the young girl away from the redneck._

_ "Oh, it was nothing, ma'am." With that, she went back to her sister._

_ When Carol turned back to where Daryl had been, she discovered the space was empty. She sighed, hoping he'd forgive her for the ordeal she'd put him through._

_ Later that night, Daryl had come to her cell just as she was getting ready to sleep. "Tha kid sure did ask a lot a' questions."_

_ His voice made her jump again. She hadn't been facing the door of her cell, and had the blanket drawn. In fact, she had just been about to undress. With her shirt half up, she quickly smoothed it down and turned to him. "Don't you know how to knock, Dixon?"_

_ He smirked. "Ain't in my nature ta tell anythin' where I am."_

_ "I thought that just was for the prey you hunt," Carol pointed out._

_ Daryl didn't disagree._

_ "So…" she said, suddenly feeling very warm. "What did ya need?"_

_ "I jus' wanted ta see ya… That a crime?"_

_ She smirked. "Not yet."_

_ Daryl came further into the cell. His hair dripped, but not with sweat. It looked as if he'd just come back from the shower. And yet, he still seemed to be dirty. _I don't think any amount of soap and water could ever get this man clean, _she thought, amused. "I was thinkin' about what that kid said… about the sleeveless thing."_

_ Carol stiffened slightly. Had he come here to ask what women mooned over him? "Yeah? What about it?"_

_ Daryl shifted slightly, seeming to be uncomfortable. "Ya think I should stop?"_

_ She looked at him, stunned by what he'd asked. "What?"_

_ "Do ya think I should stop… wearin' sleeveless shirts?"_

_ Carol couldn't help but stare at him like he'd gone crazy. "And you're asking me this… because?"_

_ Daryl shrugged. "I jus'… I thought you'd… know what to do about it… I mean… I didn't want ya ta think that I… I mean… That I changed it because I was worried that… I dunno…"_

_ "Personally, I like the sleeveless look on you," she murmured. She could feel his eyes piercing her, studying her. _

_ "Yeah?"_

_ "I mean… it's up to you what you do, but… I like it. And like you said—it keeps you comfortable. That's the most important thing."_

_ Daryl was silent for a long time. "Okay… I'll see ya around then."_

_ The next morning at breakfast, Carol noted that Daryl was still wearing sleeveless shirts. Not only that, but he was also wearing her favorite shirt of his—and old, faded gray button-down shirt he'd ripped the sleeves off ages ago. He'd been wearing this shirt the day he gave the Cherokee Rose to her, and that's how she remembered it. He had no other shirt that looked like it, so it was always easy to pick out. She'd mentioned it to him once—told him that it was her favorite shirt of his._

_ Had he done that purposefully?_

_ She liked to think so._

* * *

"Carol, since Tyreese raves about your skills with children, you can work with Alyssa in the nursery," Gareth said. "You'll have to be her assistant until we're certain we can trust you with our most valuable members of the group, of course. Nothing personal, but the children are very important to us."

After breakfast, Carol was led by guards from the mess hall to the nursery on the other side of the compound. Along the way, she spotted chain-link fence in the distance, and smelled, an awful, rotting smell. As they neared a small building that was surprisingly solitary, Carol noted a railroad track that ran along the western side of the compound. A few lone boxcars sat on the track, presumably empty.

As she neared the small building, she paused. She heard something—a faint voice on the wind. She looked toward the boxcars, certain it had come from that direction. It sounded like a boy shouting at someone, or something. She couldn't make out what the voice was saying, or who it belonged to, but she was certain she heard something.

_Why would anyone be by those boxcars? I don't see anyone…_

"Keep movin'," one of the guard muttered, giving her a rough nudge toward their destination. Carol complied, but kept her eyes on the boxcar until the last possible second.

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A/N: Review?


	8. Chapter 7

_A Silver Rose - Chapter 7_

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**Well, this is a big chapter. I had no idea that this was going to happen now, but oh well.**

**I don't own The Walking Dead.**

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**Chapter Seven**

As evening fell, Daryl began to fidget. Tonight, when the people came to feed them, they were going to attack. He hated being useless – hated to have to just _sit there_ and _wait._ It was torturing.

The only good thing that seemed to be happening at the present was that Rick seemed to finally be coming around. After Carl had knocked some sense into him, Rick began to take charge of things again. He actively helped Michonne, Daryl, and Glenn plan out their escape plan, and even seemed to have a heart-to-heart with the samurai afterwards.

Daryl, even though he would never verbally admit it, enjoyed seeing the relationship between Rick and Michonne grow. After all the crap that those two had been through, it was actually a bit of a relief that they finally found people to be their support. Of course, Daryl was always there for Rick, but he knew it wasn't the same. The more he thought about it, he found his mind drifting back to Carol. He wished that she was there – there to talk to him, comfort him, stand by his side as they tried to get out of this godforsaken train car.

_Don't worry, woman,_ Daryl thought with the same determination he always had when he thought about Carol. _When I get outta this damn boxcar, I'm gonna find ya. And when I do, I ain't lettin' ya go._

* * *

Carol and Tyreese headed back to their apartment that evening. After spending a day working in the nursery, Carol was exhausted. She had to admit – it was such a relief and a blessing to be around children again. Even so, the entire day, she kept thinking about Sophia, Lizzie, and Mika. Those girls – they were her children. Even if Lizzie and Mika weren't her biological daughters, Carol loved them as if they were. _It seems everyone I love ends up dying,_ she thought with bittersweet sadness.

By dying, they escaped this hell. They were, hopefully, in a much better place now. But, they were gone. And they weren't coming back no matter what anyone did. _I've lost them, but was it for the better?_

"So, what do you think a' this place?" Tyreese asked as they climbed the stairs to their shared room.

Carol shrugged. The entire idea of Terminus seemed just too good to be true, and in Carol's experience, if it looked that way, it usually was. "I don't know yet," she admitted quietly.

"C'mon, Carol," Tyreese said, sounding slightly irritated. "Can't you see that this place is what we've been looking for all along?"

"I don't know about that," Carol murmured. "It seems… too good."

Tyreese scoffed, but let the topic rest.

_We need to get out of here,_ she thought. _If Tyreese won't come, then I just need to get Judith and go . . . Something isn't right, but I don't know what._

* * *

When the people came to feed them, Daryl was ready. Rick was in the frontlines – he decided to lead the operation after his talk with Michonne. The plan was now that, after they would ambush the feeders, Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn would head across the compound to the armory, where all of their old weapons were. Meanwhile, Rick and Abraham would lead the others out to the fences, that wasn't very far from the boxcar. There, they would hop the fence, dig up their guns, and wait for the others to get out.

The plan, while it had its kinks, seemed doable. Of course, there would be guards – there would almost be certainly around the armory, but Daryl was confident that the three of them could take out any guards that might be on duty.

"Shh!" Michonne hissed, shooting a glare at Bob and Sasha who had been whispering. "I hear them coming . . ."

The boxcar was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop. Daryl could hear their footsteps as the two people approached. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he could hear it violently pulsing through his veins. _Get yerself together,_ Daryl thought sharply. _Keep yerself calm. Think._

He heard the latch outside turn, and the creak as the door slid open.

He saw Rick tense.

He blinked, and that was all it took.

Rick was out of the train car, his hand over one of the feeder's mouths. Abraham had the other in a headlock and was currently trying to knock him unconscious. It didn't take much to overpower them. It seemed . . . almost too easy, actually.

Daryl looked around, feeling apprehensive. He felt naked without his crossbow. _Tha sooner I get it back, tha better._

"Daryl, Glenn, you guys ready?" Michonne asked. She was already walking toward a building in the distance. Daryl went after her, passing Glenn as gave Maggie a kiss. A few moments later, the Korean boy was beside him, and the three made their way toward the armory.

* * *

Tyreese was asleep – Carol had made sure of that. She had done her best to pack all of her things as quietly as she could. After slinging the back over her shoulder, she picked up Judith. The baby blinked tiredly at her, and gave her a look that asked: "Why are you doing this to me? It isn't fair!"

Carol cradled her in her arms. She knew that babies could be unpredictable sometimes, but Judith was fairly good. She didn't cry much, at least not while Carol held her. She hoped that tonight, it would be the same. _You have to be quiet, Jude. If you make a sound, we'll be caught._

She opened the door to their apartment. She expected to find a guard there, making sure they didn't leave. However, there was no one in sight. Carol, taking advantage of this blessing, rushed down the stairs, doing her best to not jostle Judith around too much. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she felt her heart soar with hope. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to get herself and a baby out of this place, but she knew that she could do it.

As she opened the door to the apartment building, she heard a shout. Her blood ran cold. _Shit! They've seen us!_ But, to her surprise, the guard, just at the other end of the apartment building was not looking at her. Instead, it was looking more south, toward the armory.

The guard took off in that direction, and Carol followed more slowly. She heard gunshots from up ahead. Judith whimpered in her arms. As she got closer, she could make out three figures huddled behind a pile of driftwood.

And she recognized them.

Michonne.

Glenn.

And Daryl Dixon.

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A/N: Review?


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